Rise of the Guardians: When Nightmares are Present
By: Wolflover77
Enjoy!
Sorry for the wait! I went back and edited the chapter before this. I wrote it super late, and it had dome pretty severe mistakes. This chapter might contain strong gore/ torture for some people, so please, be cautious. I don't want people vomiting all over their computers _ enjoy! And revier!
Jack had finally come to the conclusion that there was no light in the unknown place. Torches scattered the stone walls here and there, but otherwise, it was almost complete darkness. Pitch's leather boots clucked against the stone floor as they meandered their way through seemingly endless hallways. Jack coughed, causing him to stumble forward and crash to the ground. His hands were bound together by thick dreamsand, making it impossible for him to cushion his fall. His head cracked against the cobblestone floor, wounds reopening and wrist throbbing.
Pitch turned around, glaring at the pitiful boy. "You… you are a worthless," the man's booted foot pulled back and slammed into Jack's ribcage. "pitiful, useless, undeserving, waste of space," Pitch proceeded to kick Jack with every negative adjective that spilt from his lips. Jack felt tears fall freely from his tired eyes. He was so numb, physically. He could barely feel the pain any more. What he truly felt were the words. They stung. They burned his inner soul as he imagined the fires of Hell would feel like.
Jack couldn't stand the endless kicking and name calling, so he pulled his legs and arms so he was in a crawling position, and stood. Pitch snarled and yanked on Jack's hoodie.
"You're a little brat. I cannot stand your stupidity, it is disgust- Ah! Here we are," Pitch turned, facing a large black door. It was thick, and engraved with tiny nightmare horses and wandering skeletons. Jack gulped; this place just kept getting more terrifying.
Maybe… just maybe, MiM will cut me some slack… I don't know if I can take this much longer… I haven't even been here for a day yet. Or have I? Oh hell, I can't tell… there aren't any windows. No windows to see the snow fall. Snow like I used to play with Jamie in…
Pitch's cold hand slapped Jack's mind out of his fevered thinking. "Stop daydreaming boy. It's time for your nightmares to begin."
North sat at his large desk, toying with a tiny wooden soldier. Christmas was in less than two weeks, and without Jack, the snowfall had decreased, and the spirit of Christmas was draining from the Worlds' population. Jack was special… he had a way of bringing cheer and joy to the children. Santa knew from the moment he had been accepted as a Guardian that he would be of great use. But now that he was gone, the children were sad. The other guardians didn't know what to do with themselves… Jack had grown on them very much over the past months. And now that he had been taken from them, war had been waged. And it was time to do something about it. North grunted to himself, getting up from his chair.
On his way out of his office, he handed the wooden soldier to one of the Yetis on guard. The Yeti made a whimpering sound as he looked at the toy closely.
It looked exactly like Jack.
Bloodcurdling.
That is the only word to describe the scream that erupted from Jack's mouth as Pitch twisted another corkscrew into Jack's pale skin. Pitch had twisted five of the spiral metal objects into the frostling's body already, and now he was inserting another, just above his shoulder.
Jack lay, arms above his head, restrained by thick leather straps on a rough stone table. His hands were tightened into fists, and his wrists were raw from tugging and twisting. Jack twisted his head from side to side, lifting his right shoulder off the stone to try to get Pitch to stop twisting the sharp metal into his skin. Five agonizing minutes later, Jack lay panting, while Pitch stood smirking.
"Boy, I've told you many times already. If you had chosen my side, we could be sipping a nice cup of coffee by a nice fire right now. But since you chose to be the hero, you must accept the fact that you are now my prisoner. And as part of my plan, I need your nightmares. Your dreams are so genuine… you rarely dream of evil. Therefore… your nightmares are far more powerful than the average person's. And in order for you to have terrible, teeth chattering nightmares, I must break you." Pitch was inches from Jack's face. He smirked, placing a hand on the boys shoulder that didn't have the corkscrew in it. "You know Jackie, you're a very handsome boy…" Pitch leaned forward, extremely close to Jack's face. He smiled, revealing sharp teeth, and ran his long, slimy tongue along the teenager's scarred cheek. Tears brimmed Jack's eyes.
He was never getting out of here. Not as the old Jack Frost, anyway.
Hope you enjoyed! More to come, review please!
Wolfie~